


How Strange A Place to Be

by Chash



Series: Holiday Fills 2018 [11]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Enchanted (2007) Fusion, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-15 05:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16927599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: The last thing Clarke wants to deal with after a long day of work is some weird homeless guy Madi saw on a billboard. Unfortunately, Madi's already made her mind up, so Clarke has a Disney prince to babysit.Just what she needed.





	How Strange A Place to Be

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [sophoslight](http://sophoslight.tumblr.com/)!

Clarke has a headache even before Madi jumps out of their taxi at eight o'clock at night, but that really is the last straw, the thing that takes her from "long day at the office" to "how drunk can I get before social services decides it's a problem."

That's assuming, of course, that social services lets her keep her foster daughter, instead of deciding that a truly responsible guardian would have made sure that Madi never jumped out of the taxi in the first place, which is already a big ask. Not that Clarke thinks she should have predicted it, but still. She could have been paying more attention to Madi's excited chattering, and realized that she was really worried about the prince she saw.

Oh god, Madi is going to chase after a homeless guy she thinks is a prince. Clarke can't catch her soon enough.

Madi is small and her legs are short, so Clarke gets to her before she actually starts talking to the unknown stranger, but still close enough that she can get a better look at him. He _is_ a real person, not part of the display like Clarke thought, dressed like the richest guy at the renaissance fair, like someone in a movie.

He also looks completely despondent.

"I told you he was real," Madi says, petulant, and Clarke hugs her around the shoulders. Her head still aches, but parents don't get time off.

"You did," she says. "I'm sorry, I should have listened to you." Her eyes flick back up to the guy. It's hard to make out his features in the dark, but she can see his dark eyes watching her, too. "You okay?" she asks.

"Excuse me?"

"Any reason you're on a billboard?"

He huffs. "You know how things look small when they're far away?"

"I've noticed, yeah."

"I thought this was a castle that was far away."

"And you didn't notice it was still too small?"

"Clarke," says Madi. "He's a _prince_."

"Not a prince," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's complicated. But once I figured out this wasn't a castle I still didn't have anywhere else to go."

"Great," says Clarke. Madi is still watching the guy with big, concerned eyes, and their taxi is still idling at the side of the street, probably getting impatient. "Can we give you a ride somewhere? The Y?"

"Arcadia Castle."

"Which is in--"

"Arcadia."

She sighs. "Just come down, okay?"

"Thank you," he says, to her surprise, and climbs down from the billboard. It was raining earlier and he's still damp, black curls pasted to his forehead, overly fancy clothing hanging heavy on his frame. "I appreciate your help. You're the first friendly people I've met since I arrived here."

"From a castle," says Clarke, just so she has whatever is happening straight.

"Arcadia," Madi insists, and the guy smiles at her.

"Arcadia Castle," he agrees. "I was supposed to be getting married."

"Of course you were." She sighs. "Sit in the front seat, okay?" she tells the guy. "You don't have an address we can send you to? A phone number?"

He seems to be thinking, finally settles on, "No, I don't have either of those."

She sighs. "Okay, fine. We'll figure it out in the morning. Just keep going," she tells the driver, and he nods.

Clarke listens with half an ear as Madi starts grilling the guy. His name is Bellamy, he's not a prince, but he is marrying a prince, which is at least a pretty progressive delusion, and he fell into a wishing well and ended up coming out in what sounds like Times Square.

Even if the whole thing is somehow completely true, Clarke can't have him hanging out in her apartment with her daughter. There's a line, and she has to draw it, and that line is "strange man she found on the street in the same apartment as her eight-year-old child."

But there's another consideration to be made, a deeper one, the one that has had Clarke feeding stray cats and trapping hurt squirrels in the park to bring them to the vet. Clarke has only had Madi for six months, and Madi still isn't sure that Clarke really wants to keep her, or that she really wants to stay. And if Clarke decides they can just abandon this guy, it will mean something, something about Clarke and about Madi and what kind of person she is.

So she texts Miller.

 **Me** : Can we sleep over at your place tonight?

 **Miller** : 48 hours notice for babysitting, I keep telling you  
What if I'm doing something?

 **Me** : Sounds like you're not  
And it's not babysitting, I'll be there too

 **MillerMe** : Madi found this homeless guy who thinks he's a prince trying to get into a castle on a billboard  
He's not giving me a last name or an address or anywhere I can take him

 **Miller** : So you want to take him to me?

 **Me** : You know how Madi gets  
If I send him away she's just going to think I'm giving up on him

 **Miller** : So how do I factor into this?

 **Me** : I don't want me and my daughter alone in my apartment with a guy I found on a billboard  
I don't really want him to know where we live at all, but we need to grab stuff

 **Miller** : So if he's going to murder someone, it'll be me

 **Me** : Please?  
I know it's a big ask, but I'm exhausted and I need to deal with this in the morning

 **Miller** : Yeah, of course  
You need me to get anything set up?

 **Me** : Your couch, I guess  
Madi and I can share the guest bed  
Seriously, thank you so much  
I owe you a six pack

 **Miller** : He better at least be cute

Clarke glances up to look at Bellamy without even realizing it. The street lights blinking by illuminate his profile in waves, the strong features and slight smile, the small, unexpected scar on his lip. His hair is drying off, curling more, and _cute_ feels inadequate. Official title or no, he has the whole _handsome prince_ thing down.

 **Me** : You know I'd never bring an unattractive weirdo to you  
See you soon

*

Clarke brings Madi up to their apartment to grab an overnight bag, leaving Bellamy waiting in the cab. He'll still know which building is theirs, but he doesn't know her last name, and she's hoping the darkness and the general confusion of the city means he won't be able to figure out exactly where they are, even if he tries. It's not ideal, but it's about the best she can do with the situation.

"Why are we staying with Uncle Nate?" Madi asks, as Clarke checks to make sure she's got everything.

"Because I want to believe Bellamy is a nice guy who needs our help, but he might not be, and if he's not, I don't want him to be able to do anything bad to us."

"But he can do something bad to Uncle Nate?"

"He could, but men are a lot more likely to hurt women than other men," she says. "So Uncle Nate said we could stay with him. Don't forget to bring stuff for school tomorrow."

"I know. I don't think he's going to hurt us," she adds.

"I don't either, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't be careful."

"But you're going to help him, right?"

"I'm going to try."

They head back down to find Bellamy chatting with the cab driver, asking about his family and life, the driver showing off pictures of his kids with a wide smile on his face. Clarke's never been good at being friendly with strangers, doesn't know how to just start talking to people, and it's weird to see a guy who doesn't even know where he _is_ fitting in better than she does. Not that she necessarily wants to start up random conversations with her cab drivers, but she definitely wouldn't know where to start if she did.

"So, we're going to my friend's place to sleep," she explains to Bellamy, once she's given the driver the address. "He's got a little more room, as long as you don't mind couch-surfing."

"I've never done it, but I don't mind. I always like to try new things." He pauses. "What is it?"

"Sleeping on a couch," says Madi.

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"Depends on the couch," says Clarke. "But Miller's is nice."

Bellamy glances over his shoulder, giving Clarke a warm smile. "I can't thank you enough for all your help. You're the first person who's showed me any kindness."

The gratitude is genuine, but it just makes Clarke's stomach churn. She _is_ showing him kindness, but under duress. And this isn't normal for her. She doesn't do much for people she finds on the street, and if Madi wasn't here, she'd be dropping him off at a homeless shelter.

The more she talks to him, the more she doesn't think that's where he belongs, but still. If not for Madi, she wouldn't have even stopped. She never would have known he needed help.

"You're welcome," says Clarke. "I'll find you somewhere better in the morning."

It takes only ten minutes to get to Miller's building, and Clarke makes sure to give the driver a hefty tip on their way out. He was getting paid for the whole thing, but having to drive around bunch of people having a weird crisis probably sucks anyway. Nothing wrong with showing a little extra consideration.

Clarke met Nathan Miller when she was in college, although the two of them didn't become friends right away. They moved in the same circles and liked each other well enough, but it wasn't until they were both moving to New York after graduation and decided to room together that they really bonded, and now he's one of her best friends and most dependable babysitters. When most people were telling her that she had no business taking on a foster child, he got it and supported her.

This is still above and beyond. 

"Hey," she calls, unlocking his door with her spare key and pushing her head inside. "We're here."

"Hey," Miller calls back from somewhere in the kitchen. "I figured you guys were hungry so I went and grabbed some mac and cheese. It's nothing special, but it's almost done."

"You're the best! Madi, we're going to share the guest room, will you go put our stuff in there?"

Madi takes off and Clarke turns her attention back to Bellamy. It's her first time seeing him in full light, and she has the chance to study him as he's distracted taking in Miller's apartment. He's got this awestruck expression that's really selling the idea that all of this is new to him, like he didn't even know places like this existed, and he could be going through some serious mental shit, but there's a part of Clarke that wants to believe--

Believe what? That he fell into a wishing well and ended up in an alternate reality? That he really doesn't have a clue where he is or how he got here?

He turns his attention to her and smiles, the full force of it hitting her like a wave. She can see all the details of him now, under Miller's energy-saving light bulbs, the brown eyes and the freckles and the increased curl of his now-dry hair. 

When he catches her eye, his mouth twitches up in a sheepish smile. "This place is unbelievable."

"If you think this is impressive, you're going to overload when you see the rest of the city."

He goes over to the window, looking out at the array of lights. Miller does have an amazing view.

"It's huge. I've never been around so many people. It was always just me and my sister."

"What about the guy you're marrying? The prince?"

"What about him?"

"How did the two of you meet?"

"He went through the kingdom looking for someone to marry. When he came to us, it was--magic."

There's a catch in his voice that Clarke finds a little troubling. They're strangers, and he doesn't owe her his life story, but in spite of all the outlandish things he's said, this is the first time she's thought he was being dishonest.

"He's a good prince," he adds, brightening. "And I met a fairy godmother who told me I was destined to marry royalty, so this is it. My one true love."

"Sounds like you had everything you wanted."

"I did."

"Then what were you wishing for?"

"What?"

"You said you fell into a wishing well. You must have had a wish."

"Dinner's up!" Miller calls, and Bellamy jerks his attention away from the question immediately.

He clears his throat, awkward. "We should eat."

"Yeah," she says, and lets it go.

He and Miller get along easily, to Clarke's surprise--she's starting to think she's the only one who doesn't just immediately get along with him. Not that they don't get along, exactly, but she feels like everyone else has a better idea of what to do with him than she does. Then again, he's a little different with Miller too, falling into easy banter, talking shit even if Clarke's pretty sure the word "shit" would freak him out. But with Madi around, everyone keeps their language G-rated anyway, so it's just a nice, shockingly normal meal, all things considered. 

Clarke gets Madi put to bed while Miller gets Bellamy some pajamas to borrow, and then it's just the three adults awake, their most awkward configuration yet.

"So, Arcadia, right?" Miller finally asks.

"Yeah." Bellamy rubs his face. "You've never heard of it, have you?"

"There are definitely places called Arcadia in the world," says Clarke. "But none of them sound like the one you're talking about."

"No." He sighs. "I have no idea how to get back. I don't even know where I came out of there. I ended up on this--metal thing underground?"

Clarke boggles. "The subway? How did you get on the subway? You have to pay for it!"

"I don't know! There were a lot of people and they were all pushing me and I just went with it."

"And you ended up on a billboard with a castle on it."

"Apparently."

"So, what next?" Miller asks, the million-dollar question. "What's the plan?"

Bellamy looks to Clarke, surprising her and warming her all at the same time. "Unless you have any better ideas, I'm waiting for Prince Roan to come rescue me."

"Prince Roan?" asks Miller, looking Bellamy over again, the familiar hey-you're-queer double-take.

"His fiance," says Clarke. 

"He'll be looking for me," Bellamy says. "And his mother was a sorceress, so he might actually have some background to draw on. But I'll still need somewhere to stay until--whatever happens. So if you have suggestions--"

"We'll figure it out in the morning," Clarke says. "Miller, can you help me get the rest of the stuff for the couch?"

Miller already got basically everything, but he's also smart enough to know what she's really asking, and they step into his bedroom for a quick conference. "You believe him?" he asks.

"I was going to ask you the same thing."

"I think I might."

"Me too. Am I a terrible parent?"

"No. Not sure social services would be great with this, but--he can stay with me, don't worry about it."

"You don't have to do that."

He shrugs. "Chip in for food and I don't mind giving him my guest room until I find a roommate. And I can pass his information along to my dad, see if there are any missing persons or anything. Maybe it's just an acute psychotic break or something, I don't know."

"Maybe," says Clarke, absent, and he shoots her a sharp look. "I don't want it to be."

"I get that. Who doesn't want to think there's some magic in the world? And a queer Disney prince, on top of that."

Clarke smiles. "Pretty much. Thanks for backing me up in believing in the weird hot guy."

"Any time."

*

"So, tell me about your prince."

It's Friday and Clarke's done with her meetings, so she took the afternoon off to show Bellamy the city. She called her mom and asked some vague, "hypothetical" questions about amnesia, and while she doesn't think Abby bought that she was just curious, she didn't figure out the real reason, so it's fine. She can show Bellamy around the more famous parts of the city, hoping to jog his memory, maybe find out more about him. If he's not legitimately a universe-hopping future prince, that story might be based in whatever the actual truth of his life is. Maybe he does have a significant other named Roan, maybe he's nervous about getting married, hit his head on something and invented this whole new life for himself as a stress reaction.

Which is why they're going to Central Park. If there's a real-world equivalent to a wishing well in New York City, Clarke's pretty sure it's here. And it's a nice day for a walk. Part of her wishes she'd taken Madi out of school to join them, but that's definitely the kind of thing that social services would frown on.

"There's not much to tell. He was looking for a spouse, he found me, our eyes met, he started to sing, I joined--"

"Wait, stop. _Sing_?"

"Yeah."

"You sang a song and now you're getting married?"

"How do you do it?"

"Get to know someone and decide if you're compatible? Just a thought."

"That's fine for ordinary people," he says, with a shrug. "That's how my parents met. But with royalty, there's usually destiny involved. You want to be sure."

"And it works?"

He frowns. "What do you mean?"

"He sang a few bars, you harmonized, and that's it? You're meant to be together?"

"You make it sound easy. It's work, relationships are always work. Does yours work? What happened to Madi's father?"

"Her parents died in an accident," says Clarke. "I took her in last year."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

"It's okay. You're right, none of my relationships have ended in happily ever after, but I don't think it's because we didn't sing together."

"So what did happen?"

"Let's see, first serious relationship was Finn, in college. I found out he was still dating his high-school girlfriend when he was home for breaks, and we both dumped him."

Bellamy winces. "Yeah, okay."

"Then my other serious relationship was Lexa. We went out for a couple years, but it didn't work out."

"I need more information. You can't just say you didn't get along. What happened?"

"We wanted different things, I guess. And every time it came up I just thought, well, that's not a big deal, we can compromise. And then I thought about all the things we were compromising on. Some of it really didn't bother me, like food preferences, but some of it was big."

"Like Madi?"

"That was the last straw, yeah. When we met, neither of us wanted kids, and then Lexa decided she did. And I didn't. Fostering was the compromise I came up with--I didn't want to be pregnant, I didn't want to have a baby, but taking in an older kid who needed a family really appealed to me. Lexa wanted biological kids, and I still don't. So we broke up and I started fostering."

"Maybe if you'd sung a song about kids, you would have known sooner," he says, but his smile is warm and his eyes are teasing. "I'm sorry," he adds, just to drive it home.

"It's been two years, I'm not still heartbroken."

"But you're not in love."

"No. You're not either," she points out, shooting him a glare. "Don't pretend you are."

"I'm going to be." When she doesn't respond, he sighs. "I wanted it to be my sister. I figured she could marry the prince, I'd meet some relative of his and marry them, the prophesy would be fulfilled and O would be set."

"O's your sister?"

"Yeah."

"How old is she?" She frowns. "How old are _you_?"

"I'm twenty-eight, my sister's twenty. You?"

"Twenty-seven."

"And Madi?"

"Eight."

"And you've had her for two years?"

"One. There's a pretty long wait between applying to be a foster parent and getting a kid."

"Is it competitive?"

Her face twists into something she knows is technically a smile. "It shouldn't be. There are lots of kids who need someone. But there are a lot of hoops to jump through."

"Like what?"

They talk about the logistics of adopting and raising children in their worlds as they walk through the park, and while Bellamy sees nothing to jog his memory at any point, Clarke learns more about him and where he comes from, and he somehow leads an entire crowd of park-goers in a rousing song about non-traditional families that everyone but Clarke somehow _knows_ , which makes her a lot more confident he's on the up and up.

Not a bad day, all things considered.

*

Prince Roan shows up on Sunday morning.

They've moved Bellamy from Miller's place to hers, which still feels risky, but there isn't really a _good_ way to deal with this whole thing, and Miller's been busy with work, so Bellamy hasn't spent a lot of time with him. He knows Clarke a lot better, and Madi likes him, and it's really not Miller's responsibility to put up this random guy.

And Clarke kind of likes having him around. He's smart and interesting and good with Madi, and she does trust him, as stupid as it feels. Even if what he believes to be the truth somehow isn't, he's got a good heart and he isn't going to hurt them.

Roan, she feels less sure about, given he shows up in her hallway bellowing, "Bellamy!"

Bellamy looks about as spooked as she feels. "Roan?"

Clarke's hand hovers on the doorknob, but she doesn't open it until Bellamy nods, and she barely has any time to look at the prince before he's got a sword out and pointed at her throat.

Which is not really the best first impression. 

"So, this is where you've been hiding him," says Roan, low and dangerous.

"I wasn't hiding anyone, he's sleeping on my couch," Clarke protests. "Bellamy, can you--"

"She didn't do anything wrong," he tells Roan. "She helped me."

Clarke and Roan stare at each other for a minute. Bellamy's been wearing clothes he made out of bed sheets for the last couple days, definitely not trendy, but not as anachronistic as his original outfit. He doesn't look like a normal guy, exactly, but this is New York. He can pass as a hipster.

On the other hand, Roan looks like a pirate who accidentally gained control of a country and is still trying to fuse his personal style with his royal title. He's got long hair and an earring and an outfit that makes him look like Jack Sparrow's richer nemesis. It's a lot to take in, but the first thought that crosses her mind is actually that he looks all wrong for Bellamy.

Roan recovers first, moves his sword from her neck. "Then I thank you," he says, sweeping into a fluid bow. "For caring for my fiance. You will be handsomely rewarded, once we're home and wed."

"You can come back?" she blurts out. Roan raises his eyebrows, and she clarifies, "To reward me. The portal doesn't--close, or whatever?"

"We're still determining how the portal opened," says Roan. "But even if it closes, I'm sure we'll be able to show our appreciation somehow."

"You should at least stay for dinner," Clarke says, too quick. "Madi's not even here to say goodbye."

Roan raises his eyebrows at Bellamy, and he clarifies, "Clarke's daughter. I'd like to see her again before we leave."

"Of course. It must have been very difficult, being stuck in this--barbaric city. I'm glad you had some allies."

"It's not all bad," Bellamy says. "I've had a lot of fun, honestly. I've seen some good stuff too."

"Perhaps you could show me."

He glances back at Clarke, but the last thing she wants to do is third wheel on a date with Bellamy and his pirate prince. "Go ahead," she says, with a smile. "I need to pick Madi up anyway. Be back at six-thirty and I'll feed you."

"Sure," he says. "See you in a couple hours."

Once they're gone, Clarke flops onto her back on the couch, unintentionally getting a nose full of Bellamy's scent from the sheets he left neatly folded. It feels stupid, to be already missing him, to be missing him at all. She had herself convinced that he was telling the truth, but that conviction hadn't taken the next step to thinking his prince would ever show up to bring him home. She doesn't know what she thought would happen, but she thought she'd have time to figure it out.

 **Me** : Bellamy's prince showed up

 **Miller** : Seriously?  
Huh  
Is he hot?

 **Me** : He looks like he's cosplaying a fancy pirate  
But he's making it work  
Mostly

 **Miller** : So is he leaving?

 **Me** : After dinner  
He's showing Roan the town

 **Miller** : Madi's at karate?

 **Me** : Yeah

 **Miller** : You want me to come over?

 **Me** : If you're not busy

 **Miller** : Yeah, I'll see you in like half an hour

He gives her a hug as soon as he shows up, adds, "I knew this was going to happen."

"What?" she asks his shoulder.

"You got a crush on the hot queer boy who thinks singing equals true love."

"Oh, yeah. That happened." She swallows hard. "I don't think he really thinks that. I don't think he's in love. I think he got here because he comes from a--fucking magical kingdom, and he made a wish to get out of getting married, and the magic sent him to New York and--"

"And you want him to stay."

"I do. It's so stupid."

"It's not. You like him, you want to spend more time with him. It was pretty obvious." He gives her a squeeze and then lets her go, smirking. "Why do you think I wasn't flirting with him?"

"He's engaged."

"Not married. And it's just flirting. If he was just engaged, I would definitely have been hitting on him."

Clarke sighs, loud and long. "I keep thinking he's only known Roan for like a day, he can't _marry him_. But he's only known me for a couple days too, and I want him to leave his whole life behind and stay with me? That's a lot more of a commitment than getting married."

"Have you asked him?"

"Of course not."

"This is the very definition of nothing to lose. Apparently he's going back to another dimension tonight, so if he says no, that's it. And if he says yes--"

Her mouth twitches. "Yeah, what happens if he says yes? I've got a guy from another dimension living with me, maybe my boyfriend, with no social security, no birth certificate, and if he doesn't like it here--"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, you'd figure it out. Look, he's an adult, he knows what's up. Just because he's from kind of a weird place doesn't mean he doesn't get it. He can make up his own mind."

"He can. Do you want to stay for dinner?"

"I want to see the prince, so yeah, I want to stay for dinner. I'll even distract him so you can talk to Bellamy."

"You're the best," she says, and he smiles.

"Go get him."

*

Dinner is awkward. Madi has a billion questions for Roan, and Miller has fewer, but all of his are very pointedly about how long Roan has known Bellamy and why they're getting married, and Roan definitely notices what's going on. It culminates in Roan starting to sing their song-- _I've been searching my whole life for a partner to stand by my side_ , catchy, but nothing to write home about--and Bellamy, distractedly listening to Madi explain the book she's reading, misses his cue.

" _And after so long, I've finally found_ ," Roan sings again, pointedly, and Bellamy blinks.

"What?"

"Did you lose your voice?"

"No, sorry, I was just--" He clears his throat. "People don't really do that here."

"I had no idea. Maybe they should."

"I got them going the other day, but apparently it was a first. At least Clarke has a very nice voice," he says, apparently without thinking, and Roan shoots her a glare that suggests he wishes he'd stabbed her when he had the chance.

Madi lights up, though. "Clarke _sang_?"

That revelation carries them through the rest of the meal, but Roan's expression gets darker and darker, and as soon as they're done, he says, "Time to go?"

Bellamy hesitates. "We should help with the dishes."

"I'll show the prince how those work," says Miller, clapping Roan on the shoulder. "Come on, kiddo, you can dry."

Roan doesn't protest, but the silence when they've all gone to the kitchen feels huge and heavy, a physical presence in the room. Something that could crush her.

"I'm going to miss you," she finally offers.

"I know I was a headache," he says, with a smile. "I appreciate all your help."

"You figured it out pretty quickly. You're pretty good at New York, honestly. You even yelled at someone on the subway."

"His legs were spread so wide he was taking up three seats," he grumbles. "It was inconsiderate."

"It was." She wets her lips. "You still never told me what you were wishing for. When you got here."

"To fall in love," he admits. "To be happy."

"Did it work?"

"Not how I planned." He pauses, eyes flicking over her. "It was supposed to be with Roan."

"I wouldn't have fallen in love with him either." But that's not enough; she makes herself go on. "You don't have to leave, you know."

"I don't?"

"Not if you don't want to."

He worries his lip. "I have to go back," he says. "Talk to my sister. Make sure everything's good, put everything in order. But--I could come back?"

Clarke's smile feels like it might split her face. "That would be nice."

He doesn't kiss her goodbye, but it's only been a couple days; she can live with that. 

Besides, he kisses her hello, and that's even better.

*

Three weeks later, he's her plus one for a party, and Murphy asks, "So, what did you do to win the princess of New York City?"

"The what?"

Clarke rolls her eyes. "It's just a stupid nickname. Don't be a dick, Murphy."

"If I can't be a dick, I won't have anything to do. That's my whole thing. Seriously, how did you guys meet? I feel like you came out of nowhere."

"Internet," says Clarke, following their script, but Bellamy is weirdly quiet, lost in his thoughts, apparently not even listening as Murphy teases her.

"You okay?" she asks, tugging him aside once Murphy has gone off to bother someone else.

"Princess of New York City, huh?"

"Yeah, because of my parents. We don't have a royal family anymore, but we're rich and Murphy and I grew up together, so--" She shrugs. "Just him being a dick. Does it bother you?"

He leans down and kisses her. "No, it's awesome. My fairy godmother told me I was going to marry into royalty, remember?"

She laughs. "Are we getting married now?"

"Not now. But someday, right?"

She squeezes his hand, leans against his shoulder. It's definitely been weird, tough logistically, and nothing like what she expected. But it's good, too. So much better than she could have imagined.

"Yeah," she agrees. "We'll get there."


End file.
